Part One Hundred And Forty Eight
As John drove away from the hospital, he knew precisely what he must do. He had informed Coope that he would be taking the afternoon off, and as he wasn't in the middle of a trial and was up to date with all his papers, she didn't protest. He needed to go to see George, to spend the afternoon with her, and to possibly try and break down some of her barriers. He wondered just how she might receive his attempts to uncover her scar. He prayed that she would eventually let him see it, because only when she did, could he begin to sincerely reassure her as to the depth of his love for her.
When he arrived, he could see that the curtains in the lounge were closed against the wind and rain that were pounding against the windows. As he stood on the step waiting for her to answer his ring at the doorbell, he could feel the occasional droplets of rain running down the back of his neck. When George let him in, she smiled. "You look like a drowned rat," She said on seeing him. "I thought I would take the afternoon off and spend some time with you," He said, removing his jacket and hanging it up in the hall above the radiator to dry. "Mr. Justice Deed on the skive," She mused thoughtfully. "I like it. So, what plans does My Lord have for me then?" "What plans would you like me to have?" He countered back, putting his arms round her and kissing her deeply. "That's a pretty good start," She replied with a smirk, feeling vaguely in the mood for some of his particular type of seduction.
Going into the lounge, they moved towards the large armchair that sat at right angles to the blazing open fire. Sitting down in the armchair, John pulled her down onto his knee. He loved having her close to him like this, and he momentarily buried his face in her hair, taking in the combination of shampoo, perfume and cigarette smoke that was undoubtedly George. "I do hope that you're not postponing anything important to be here," She said, snuggling her face into his neck. "No," He assured her. "I'm not due in court until tomorrow, and I'm up to date with all the reading for it. So, at least for the next few hours, I am entirely at your disposal," he added, softly kissing her and making her whole body shiver at the possibility of what was to come. They sat, snugly close in front of the fire, intermittently kissing and talking, George really beginning to relax in his arms. The only sounds within the room were the crackling of the logs in the grate, and the occasional howling of the wind down the chimney. This contented silence was punctuated by their deepening kisses, and the soft and gentle words that passed between them. "I want so much to touch you," John said after some considerable time, his words leaping out as if of their own accord. "There's no one here telling you not to," George said silkily, leading his hand to her one and only breast. "I don't want to do anything that you might not be ready for," John told her sincerely, cupping her breast in his hand, and tenderly massaging the fleshy softness he knew so well. "I think that I am ready for it," She said quietly. "As well as that other thing I know you would like to accomplish at some point today," She added knowingly. "Am I quite so transparent?" He asked, not having expected her to see through his plan quite so easily. "In matters of the female body, John, your motives are always transparent," She told him with a mocking smile. "But I love you for it." "Then, shall we move somewhere a little more comfortable?" He suggested, wanting nothing more than to further her pleasure. "Yes," She agreed immediately. "But let's stay down here in front of the fire."
As she rose from his knee, he unfastened the zip at the side of her skirt, allowing it to pool at her feet as she stepped out of it. Drawing her to stand in between his parted thighs, he began unbuttoning her blouse, eventually casting it over the back of the chair he was sitting in. When he joined her on the rug in front of the blazing fire, he laid his cheek on the soft, warm skin of her midriff, leaving gentle, butterfly kisses with every touch of his lips. He wanted to make love to her, really make love to her, to give her every ounce of pleasure he could think of. He kissed his way up until he was nuzzling at her bra-covered breast, eventually taking the material covered nipple between his lips and grazing it with his teeth. She gasped as he did this, and he gently sucked on her nipple through the material, eliciting a groan of developing lust from her. Abandoning her breast for the time being, he kissed his way down to the top of her thighs, using the tip of his nose to slightly push aside the scrap of fabric she called underwear. His nose gently traced the smooth skin of her mound, with his tongue flickering briefly over her exposed clitoris. But to George's infinite frustration, he didn't pursue his oral endeavours, but began kissing his way down her left leg, and returning ever so slowly up the length of her right. "John, please," she all but begged him. Reaching the waistband of her knickers, he took the elastic deftly between his teeth, drawing it away from her body only to let it ping back into place. "You are a bigger tease," She told him with a frown of frustration. "Than a vibrator whose batteries have run out half way through." John laughed, never before having been compared to a sex toy of any kind. "I didn't know you had one of those," He said, enchanted by the idea. "And you still don't," She said a little hurriedly, telling him that she did but that she wanted to hide it from him at all costs.
"Tell me how wet I make you," He said, still playing teasingly with the waistband of her knickers. "Remove those and you can find out for yourself," She quipped back. "Ah, but maybe I want you to tell me." "Don't tell me that My Lord actually wishes me to talk dirty to him after all these years of avoiding such a shameful activity?" "Mmm perhaps," He replied noncommittally. She was right in that he had never outrightly asked her to talk in such a way to him, as he had always avoided doing the same for her. But maybe now it was time he tried something entirely new with her. "You make me as hot and wet as the heart of a rainforest," She told him without any further delay. "And if you keep on teasing me in the way you are, I suspect my underwear will no longer be a suitable barrier between you and my ever rising level of arousal." Her words, uttered in that sultry, sexy drawl he knew so well, were making him as hard as a rock, and his trousers distinctly uncomfortable. "Am I making My Lord all hard and ready for action down there?" She asked, now doing some teasing of her own. "You're not kidding," John admitted ruefully. Deciding that enough playing had gone on, he swiftly removed her knickers and buried his face between her slightly spread thighs. Oh god, her taste, her exquisite sweetness, it was like a nectar from the all mighty. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I tasted you?" He asked, briefly lifting his face from her centre. "It feels like it's been far too long." His lips gently nibbling at her smooth but swollen labia, he breathed in her scent as though it were a matter of life and death. Running the tip of his tongue down between her labia, he encountered the overflow flood of her arousal, her juices running over his tongue and his lips like the finest of wines and the rays of the sun all rolled into one. He thrust his tongue into her entrance, the tip of his nose massaging the engorged bud of her clitoris. Becoming aware of the frequent whimpers that were emanating from her, he lifted his face from her fountain of deliciousness, slipping three fingers inside her supple, silky warmth as he did so. "Don't feel you need to be quiet on my account," He told her a little unsteadily. "If you want to shout, then shout, I don't mind." "You might come to regret that," She told him a little breathlessly. As his fingers relentlessly stabbed in and out of her, he deftly nibbled on her clitoris, causing her to cry out at the sensation. "God, John," She said as her pleasure mounted. "You'll be the death of me at this rate." "And that isn't something to joke about," he told her sternly. "Just a turn of phrase, darling, not an actual prediction," She tried to reassure him, gently running her fingers through his hair. "Though I can't help thinking that it would be a wonderful way to die." She would have said more, but as he curled his fingers in order to seek out her G spot, she really did almost shout with the intensity of the feeling. Reaching up with his spare hand, he began rolling her nipple between finger and thumb, maximising every possible sensation until she was a quivering, pulsating collection of want and need. When she finally crested her peak, she definitely did shout, all but screaming at the level of sheer ecstasy that almost made her black out.
As he gently removed his fingers from inside her, and lay down next to her, her breathing began to return to normal. "Was that up to My Lady's wishes?" He enquired silkily, softly kissing her cheek. "I think that was the most intense orgasm I've had since Christmas," She told him honestly. "Certainly sounded like it," He replied with a rather wicked smile. "You were the one who told me to let go," She reminded him. "And I haven't heard such a glorious expression of pleasure in a very long time. You weren't holding anything back, and that's what I wanted, for you to be as thoroughly sated and relaxed as possible." "So that you can now persuade me into letting you uncover the rest of my less than desirable body." This was a statement not a question, because she realised that this was what he'd been working up to since he'd arrived on her doorstep. "George, if you really don't want me to see it, then say so, because I'm not about to pressure you into doing what I realise you are still very much afraid of." "Yes, I am still afraid of your reaction to me," She told him quietly. "But I know that my fear will only increase the longer I leave it." Putting his arms round her, John just held her for a while, allowing her to come down from her very intense orgasm, gently running his hand up and down her back. On one of these journeys along her spine, he lingered on the fastening of her bra, deftly unhooking it as he had a thousand times before. Using both hands now, he carefully removed this one remaining article of clothing, taking with it the soft, breast-shaped padding that now filled the left side of her bra. Putting her bra and its insert to one side, he gazed down at her chest. Her right breast was just as he remembered it, its rosy-pink nipple just begging to be caressed. But to the left of this, was the flat expanse of chest that Ric had described, with the livid scar running diagonally across it. Seeing the look of sheer sadness in his eyes, and the moisture that threatened to spill over at any moment, she asked, "Do I look quite so repulsive to you?" "No, no, of course you don't," he said hurriedly, striving to reassure her as much as was humanly possible. "It just saddens me that this had to happen to you, but it doesn't make you any less beautiful in my eyes, not in the slightest. I still want to make love to you, I still want to touch and kiss you as much as I ever did. You are George, my George, my George who can make me experience a level of sexual desire that can be rivalled by no other, except for that which I feel for Jo. So please, don't ever think that I don't love you or want you just because of this." Lowering his face to her chest, he kissed a delicate pattern along the angle of her scar, briefly laying his cheek on the flat portion of her chest. As she stroked his cheek as he did this, she knew that any worries she might have had about John, were entirely unnecessary. He did still love her and he did still want her, as was clearly testified by the hardness she could feel digging into her thigh, even through his trousers.
"You're wearing far too much, you know," She said, her voice a little unsteady, full of emotion as it currently was. "Is that an invitation to further our afternoon of sincerely hedonistic pleasure?" He asked, sitting up to remove his shirt and toss it aside, as she worked on his belt and flies. "Without a doubt," She replied, pressing her hand against the throbbing hardness of his manhood which was clearly itching to escape from its confinement. "Oh, no," She said in honest distress. "We can't, at least not in the normal way, as I'm still in danger of conceiving, which is something neither of us needs." "Good job I dropped in at the chemist on the way here then, isn't it," He said with a smirk of triumph, getting up and going out into the hall to retrieve the little packet from his jacket pocket. When he returned and dropped the packet on the floor beside her and began removing the rest of his clothes, she gazed up at him with a playful smirk on her face. "I haven't had sex with one of these for years," She said, holding up the packet of condoms and closely examining it. "I do admire your ingenuity though, darling, well done." As he rejoined her on the floor, she gently pushed him to lie on his back, and with one hand she tore off the wrapping to the packet, and with the other she began testing his hardness, running her hand expertly along his length, making him suck in a breath of sheer pleasure as he felt her firm but gentle touch. When she had extracted one of the awkwardly wrapped condoms from the packet, she realised that it would require both her hands to remove the condom itself. So, moving down his body, she temporarily engulfed his straining erection between her pouting lips, causing him to groan in delight. "I love you," He said a little unsteadily, causing her to laugh with her mouth full. He always loved her when she did this for him. Casting the wrapper of the condom aside, and removing her mouth from his engorged shaft, she applied the barrier between his sexual fluids and hers, and immediately sat astride him, taking him fully into her slick and moist heat. As she gripped his hips with her thighs, slowly moving up and down as he grasped her waist between his hands, she knew what it was to feel whole again. There was always something missing from her life when she wasn't sleeping with him for some reason, whether that be an argument, or trying to hide such as her lump from his usually observant gaze. Pulling her down to lie against his chest, he thrust in and out of her, not minding as much as he thought he would that there was a thin, latex barrier between their interconnected centres. As they writhed in that age old way, they both felt that no matter what came next, the two of them, plus Jo when they could all three be together, could at least try to weather any storm, their united love and affection for each other providing the strength and support that they all would need.